


Constellations

by Zo One (Olwyn)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Childhood Friends, Knight Arthur, M/M, Magician Alfred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28601859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olwyn/pseuds/Zo%20One
Summary: Arthur had been his friend since childhood, running around the castle grounds together. Now their lives were inexplicably bound together, even as they must part ways and be reunited in war. Little did Alfred know that their each meeting would add another star to their shared constellation.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> Radu is my take on a sort of "father figure" Romania.  
> This fic is a rewrite (and completely different) of my unfinished work from my fanfic account.

Alfred first set foot in the country of Flamberge at the age of six, his fingers twisted nervously into the billowing cape of his mentor and adoptive father, Radu, one of the greatest magicians of his generation.

Since he could remember, they had been walking dusty roads, riding in the backs of swaying wagons, and staring at the skies for the navigational stars. Never did they have a destination in mind – until now.

That, he remembers, was one of the greatest days of his life. The day he was promised a home.

He recalled the warm spring breeze that rustled through his clothes and pushed the oversized cap from his head. The noise buzzing about them as they walked through the bustling streets of Rupey, the capital city; the swirling iron gates leading to Von Pyre Castle, and the way Radu smiled down at him, stopping to adjust his cap with affection – these images would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“Sit here, young one,” Radu told him, ushering him onto a stone bench under the eaves of a flowering peach tree. “Stay and wait for me while I talk.”

“Sir,” he gasped, quickly snatching the fabric of Radu’s pants before he could leave. “Will we really have a home now?”

Radu laughed. He picked Alfred up by his armpits and physically set him onto the stone bench, taking a moment to brush a few blond locks of hair back into Alfred’s cap.

“We shall see in a few hours,” he said. “I’m very optimistic, as they have no reason to refuse us. Now . . .” He set his hands on Alfred’s shoulders. “Please wait for me here.”

Alfred, excited and curious about his new surroundings, nodded and slapped his hands against the stone. “I’ll be right here! Come back quick!”

Radu walked off, casting an occasional glace over his shoulder before he was out of sight.

“Hmm.” Alfred cupped his hands together and reached out, attempting to catch one of the pale pink petals that drifted down from above. Fighting fruitlessly against the pull of the wind, Alfred huffed, and stood up on the bench to try and get closer to the delicate branches.

It then caught his attention that there was at least a dozen more of the flowering trees beyond this one. He glanced back towards the path Radu had left on, then scanned the surrounding area, finding that he was delightedly alone.

Pulling his tunic down to try and cover his bare knees, Alfred then leaped off the bench and skipped into the small orchard, his hands open in a half-hearted attempt to catch the occasional drifting petal.

This looked like the perfect place to meet a member of the fae, he thought. It had been so long since he had seen one with Radu. They were such funny little people.

He made a sharp turn around the trunk of a particularly thick tree, only to collide into someone with a gasp as the air was knocked from him.

“Oh. Pardon me. Are you alright?”

Alfred looked up with a cough, the boy he’d careened into hadn’t even flinched at their collision.

“Ye – yeah,” he answered sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

The other boy, older, but probably not by much Alfred guessed, squatted down to hold out a helping hand.

“It’s alright,” the other boy said, easily pulling Alfred to his feet. “No harm done.”

Looking at him, Alfred noticed how brilliantly green the other’s eyes were and he inhaled sharply in excitement. “Are you a fae?” he asked, his fingers moving up his face to cover his mouth.

The boy raised a thick eyebrow at him, but politely answered anyway. “Um. No. I’m quite human, actually.”

Alfred tried not to look disappointed. He nodded along, shoving his hands into the large pockets of his tunic. “Well, I like humans, too! What’s your name?”

The other boy stepped back, taking a moment to take Alfred in, likely appraising him and trying to place him into what social sphere he might be from.

“Are you a child of one of the maids here?” he asked instead of answering.

Alfred pouted, crossing his arms. “No! I’m Alfred! Apprentice to the Magician Radu!”

“Magician?” The other boy paused. “Ah, well, pardon my rudeness. I am Arthur Kirkland, son of Duke Kirkland. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alfred.”

Alfred watched, fascinated, as Arthur gave him a small, but polite bow of apology.

“I’m sorry to cut our meeting short,” Arthur went on to say, beginning to step in another direction, “but I’m actually on my way to visit my tutor and I cannot be late. Please, pardon me.”

“Okay! Nice to meet you! Bye-bye!” Alfred waved the other boy off, watching him walk away until he was no longer in view. He then turned his attention back to the flowering trees, deciding to fill his pockets with as many blossoms as possible.

It was over an hour later that Radu found him, perched on an upturned basket as he chatted away with a pair of young maids that had spotted him on their return from hanging laundry in the spring breeze.

“Honestly,” Radu chided as he corralled Alfred away from the orchard and towards a stone path lined with wild daisies. “I can’t take my eyes off you for a moment. I hope you had fun on your little escapade.”

Alfred grasped Radu’s pinky finger with his own. “Yeah, it was nice. We’re going to live here now, right? I really like it here.”

“Yes, little one,” Radu said with an affectionate sigh. “This is our home now.”

* * *

Alfred soon learned that the tower in the eastern corner of the castle grounds would be his new house. At the very top there was a bedroom for him and Radu, further down was an open space for practical learning, then there was a library with desks, and another floor dedicated only to meeting with important people who might want to visit them.

Immediately, Alfred was taken with it. That bed was _his_ and those books were for _him_ to learn; and that wheel shaft brought him food, so he didn’t have to forage anymore. The only thing he didn’t like was that Radu now had the time to _really_ be a teacher. It was hard to stay at a desk for so long.

One balmy day, a few weeks after they had moved into the tower, Radu brought Alfred to one of the lower levels where there were four desks, a long table, and a smudged chalkboard.

“This is where you’re going to take basic lessons from the palace tutors,” Radu said, gesturing towards the empty desks. “You’ll be sharing lectures with some of the noble-born squires.”

Alfred sat at one of the desks, his legs kicking at the air. “There are going to be knights here?” he asked, leaning forward with burning curiosity. “Will they have swords?”

Radu chucked and pat Alfred’s head. “No, silly one. No weapons are permitted in here.”

“Aw. I wanted to see a real sword,” he grumbled, laying himself out on his desktop in a dramatic pout.

“I might sneak one in for you if you do well in your lessons,” Radu reassured with a snigger, his soft red eyes alight with mischief. “Wouldn’t that be excellent motivation?”

“I’ll be the best student ever!” Alfred exclaimed, just as the door to the classroom opened.

Two other boys, a girl, and a slender man with the biggest glasses Alfred had ever seen entered the room, their idle chatter stopping as soon as they spotted Alfred and Radu.

Alfred recognized one of the boys and immediately brightened. “Arthur! Hello! Come and sit next to me!” he greeted, patting the desktop next to his.

Arthur’s fae green eyes widened, flicking over to Radu before nodding with a serious expression. “We meet again, Alfred,” he said, carefully sliding into the offered desk. “And you must be the King’s new Magician, Radu. A pleasure to meet you.”

“And you as well, young man,” Radu answered with a stiff nod. He turned to the bespectacled teacher as the other students sat down as well. “As of today, Alfred will be joining in on your lessons.”

The tutor stared at Alfred, one eye squinting as he appraised him.

“Isn’t he a bit young to be in this class?” the man asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “He looks to be about five years old.”

“I’m _six_!” Alfred interjected, offended. He would be seven soon, too!

“My youngest student is ten.” The man nodded towards Arthur. “I fear the subject matter will be too difficult for him.”

Radu nodded along as the man spoke, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. “I will monitor this session and decide if it is too much for Alfred to handle, as _I_ am in charge of his education.”

Alfred refrained from sticking his tongue out – just barely.

Instead, he focused on the lecture, making sure to ask questions, take subtle peeks at Arthur’s book, and regurgitate anything that was asked of him.

By the end of the session, even the teacher begrudgingly accepted his presence as valid.

Alfred, proud, had always been good at memorizing things, although it was difficult to discern if he actually learned them.

“I’m rather impressed with that performance,” Arthur said to him as Radu took the tutor aside for a talk. “You seem to be a natural born scholar.”

Grinning, Alfred gave a cocky sniff. “Yeah. Radu says he’ll show me a real sword if I do good! Isn’t that exciting?”

“A sword?” Arthur chortled. “Why, I see those every day!”

Alfred gasped. “You train with the Knights, then? Radu said the other students might be squires, but I thought maybe he was joking with me again – he does that a lot, you know.”

“Indeed, I am a squire at the moment.”

“Oh, wow! Arthur, that’s amazing! I heard knights are so strong and smart! I hope you’ll let me see you practice one day.” Alfred leaned forward; his hands clasped together in a pleading manner.

Before Arthur could answer, Radu returned, setting his hands on Alfred’s shoulders.

“Alright, young one,” he said, ushering Alfred towards the stairwell, “it’s time for your astronomy lessons before dinner. Let us go now.”

Alfred waved sadly at Arthur as he left. He couldn’t be too upset about it though. He’d see Arthur again tomorrow, after all.

* * *

Over the years, Alfred had created so many important memories.

There were the windy nights with Radu in their shared bedroom, where his mentor would read him fairytales to calm his nerves enough to sleep; or the hot afternoons spent finding a shady spot around the castle grounds for naps. But his most numerous memories, and his favorites, always had Arthur by his side:

“It went that way!” Alfred shrieked; his eight-year-old body unable to contain his sheer excitement. “To the larder!”

Arthur came running, his feet pounding on the stone pathways, and a wooden training sword held high overhead. “Open the door!” he commanded, green eyes sparkling.

Alfred did as he was told.

A kitchen maid was already screaming by the time Alfred and Arthur barged into the larder, knocking over a barrel of salted pork.

“Where is it?! Where did it go?!” Alfred yelled, climbing under the tables piled with an assortment of cheeses.

“Rat! A rat in the larder!” the maid screeched through the chaos.

Arthur was pushing shelves and barrels around, whacking his wooden sword onto the ground whenever he exposed a new section of flooring.

The door slammed open once again.

“ _What’s going on in here?”_ a fierce voice bellowed.

Everyone in the room stopped, their eyes snapping to the newcomer. A jostled barrel tipped completely and clattered to the ground, potatoes spilling across the floor.

Radu stood in the doorway, almost glowing with intimidation.

Alfred, semi-used to Radu’s moods, giggled nervously and said, “There’s a rat in the larder?”

Glancing around at the mess: shelves in disarray, overturned barrels, and cured meats swinging, disturbed; Radu sighed deeply. Then, quick as a flash, he snapped his fingers and little bars of stone protruded from the floor, surrounding a now bewildered rat. A stone lid, made from one of the flagstones in the flooring, quickly slid to the top, securing the animal.

“Arthur, I believe Sir Conrad is looking for you. Be on your way.”

Arthur’s shoulders drooped and he scurried out of the larder, fearing punishment from either Radu or his Knight mentor, though he did send Alfred one last apologetic glance.

“And you,” he went on, rounding on Alfred. “It’s time for an anatomy lesson.” He picked up the magically created cage, the rat chittering inside. “Let’s go.”

Alfred remembered thinking it would have been nicer to the rat if it had just been beaten by Arthur’s sword.

As time went on, Alfred spent most of his days in the eastern tower, he still found spare moments to wander through the small peach orchard, coaxing the maids to help him pick the yellow fruits when they were ripe and making detailed sketches of their blossoms in his herbology notebook in the spring. Even his time with Arthur had been condensed into quick, oftentimes stolen hours.

One brisk autumn night when Alfred was ten, he had bundled himself into his cloak, hiding in an obscured corner of the orchard with three pieces of filched pumpkin cake. He placed one of the cakes in a small hollow at the base of the tree he took shelter under.

The crunching of leaves underfoot told him that Arthur was arriving, just as promised.

“Escaped cleaning duty?” he asked, taking a paper-wrapped cake from his cloak pocket, and handed it over to Arthur.

“Thank you,” Arthur murmured as he sat next to Alfred. “And I did not escape. I was excused for good performance this past week.”

Alfred shrugged. He usually had to escape, but that was mostly because if Radu saw him doing nothing, his teacher would _find_ something for him to do.

“Alfred . . . why is there cake stuffed into the tree?” Arthur asked after he had swallowed his first bite. “Also, where did you even get all this cake?”

“I . . . borrowed it,” he said, hoping to sound cool and evasive. “One of the fae told me where to get it in exchange for leaving them a piece.” He took a quick bite of his piece, glancing at Arthur nervously. “Oh! And don’t tell Radu that I was bartering with the fae. He _hates_ that.”

Arthur gave him a skeptical look at his use of ‘borrow’ but said nothing. “I wish I could see the fae,” he said after he’d finished his cake. “I thought I did when I was very young, but I haven’t in a long time.”

“Radu says that Magicians can see all magical creatures,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t remember why, really. Something about Magicians originally being from the Invisible realm.”

He shoved the rest of the cake in his mouth and continued talking. “I’m shore one day you’ll shee dem again mff!”

Arthur pressed his hand over Alfred’s mouth, a look of disgust on his face. “Please, chew first, and then speak. Basic manners, Alfred, the absolute _basic_.”

Taking a moment to swallow his food, Alfred pushed Arthur’s hand away from his mouth and laughed. “Sorry! I wanted to eat it before the chef sent his assistant out to find me.”

“Where is that _rapscallion_!” a voice bellowed in the distance.

Arthur sat up, looking alarmed.

“Oh, looks like chef found out about the cake sooner than I thought! Bye, Arthur! Better hide before he sees crumbs!” Alfred gave his friend a mock salute before scrambling over the low wall to the palace gardens.

That cake had been worth the scolding, he recalled fondly.

But, everything began to change after Alfred had turned twelve. At that point, he had a reputation of being too inquisitive for his own good. He would often sneak out of the tower during self-study hours or meals to creep around the castle, looking into every nook and cranny for a cat to chase or a friend to pester.

Arthur, at sixteen, was in the process of becoming a lithe and agile young man. He was also at the age where he was beginning to feel embarrassed by Alfred’s presence, as he was a couple years too young to be considered one of Arthur’s peers. Although, they still spent many hours together, simply because there were no other children closer in age.

Apart from the staff’s children, of course, but Arthur wasn’t permitted to associate himself with them. Alfred didn’t understand why until many years later.

“I wish I could be a squire like you, Arthur,” Alfred said one late summer day, his thirteenth birthday looming on the horizon. “I think I would be a better knight than Magician.”

Arthur snorted, his back resting against a peach tree, his legs sprawled on the ground in front of him. “You’re the only person in this Kingdom that would want to give up magic to be a simple knight.”

“Hm. Maybe. Sometimes I think I’m just not very good at magic. I can’t do any of the cool things Radu can. I can’t conjure fire or ice or summon stone golems. It’s just so _hard_ and I hate it.” Alfred’s lower lip quivered, worried. “What if Radu doesn’t want to teach me anymore because I’m such a bad apprentice?”

“From what I understand,” Arthur started, casting Alfred a disgruntled look, “is that only a tiny percentage of the population can harness magic, and even fewer have enough ability to become Magicians. So, if Radu sees the potential in you, it’s most likely because it’s _there_.”

Alfred nodded, staring at his hands petulantly. “You’re probably right. Radu said that when I’m older I might even be able to become the Magician to someone like the King of Bardiche, since his current Magician is getting too old.” He sniffed. “Not that I would want to. Flamberge is my home.”

“Is it possible that you could become a Magician in the service of the Crown Prince?”

Alfred shook his head. “I can’t remember why, but Radu said that a Magician is sworn into the service of a person for life; except for the Royal Magician, who serves the position of King. So, I could not be sworn to anyone likely to become King without having to challenge Radu for the right to serve.”

“Hm. Sounds complicated.”

“It might be. I guess. I’d have to find _someone_ to be sworn to, though, if I don’t want to be shipped off to the church.” Alfred let a deep sigh escape from his lips. It seemed like there was too much to worry about today. Not fun.

Arthur frowned. “I’m sure Radu will take care of that. He’s always looking out for you.”

Alfred had to admit that was true. Radu had been a better father to him than his own, considering his biological father had attempted to sell him into slavery at the border of Drachma and Flamberge. That’s where Radu had found him, having just crossed over the border during his wanderings.

“Radu says that you’re on track to become Captain of the Royal Knights. Is that true?” he asked to change the subject.

A dove swooped down to perch in the branches above Alfred and he moved closer to Arthur to avoid being in range of its droppings.

“That’s my goal,” Arthur confirmed. “No point in doing something unless I can be the best.”

“I’m sure you will be,” Alfred said. “The best, I mean. You’re already really amazing!”

Arthur preened under the praise. He smirked, opened his mouth as if to speak, but then quickly shut it, swiveling in place to put more of his back towards Alfred.

A small group of teenaged squires, most at the age and skill to be sent to war camp, walked by the orchard, chatting jovially. Only when their voices faded into the distance did Arthur turn back around to face Alfred.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his cheeks reddening slightly. “I didn’t want them to think . . .”

“I know,” Alfred said, cutting off Arthur’s trailing explanation. “They think I’m an annoying little kid.” He crossed his arms. “Well, yesterday I stole all their spare clothes and used them for fire summoning practice, so there.”

Arthur guffawed, his hands gripping at his sides as he wheezed out a few surprised yelps. “You – you absolute _shit_ ,” he managed to say, wiping a tear from his eye. “How did you charm the maids into giving you their laundry?”

“I asked like this,” Alfred said, tilting his head and fluttering his eyelashes.

Arthur reddened again, looking as if he might burst from either a fit of giggles or embarrassment. “Preposterous.”

"I also lied and said I was an errand boy for the day."

They were interrupted once more by the sound of footsteps, but this time Alfred slumped in defeat. He could recognize Radu’s rhythmic gait almost anywhere. His free time was over.

“Ah, there you are, Alfred,” Radu said genially as he approached, pretending as if he had needed to exert energy into his search for his apprentice. There were few places Alfred would be at this time, and it was almost guaranteed that he could be found with Arthur. “It’s time for your next lesson.”

“Oh, alright.” Alfred stood and dusted the dirt from the seat of his pants before turning to his friend. “I’ll see you later, Arthur.”

Arthur gave him a small wave in return.

Days later, on the morning of his thirteenth birthday, he and Radu were called into the throne room.

Alfred hid his trembling hands by holding onto Radu’s red cape, waiting a half step behind his mentor.

The throne room was massive; golden arches crossed the high ceilings, while windows three stories tall flooded the room with mid-morning sunlight. The sunbeams reflected off the white marble floors, making Alfred squint.

Arthur and his father, Duke Kirkland, waited for them at the base of the stairs leading to the ornate, golden throne.

He and Arthur exchanged a worried look.

King Roderick was an imposing man. His sandy blond hair was almost entirely hidden by his heavy gold crown, with more rubies pressed into the metal than Alfred could count with a quick glance – which was all he was brave enough to do before his gaze settled onto his feet.

“Thank you for coming here today,” the King said, not sounding at all thankful. “Radu, we’re here to discuss the agreement about your apprentice.”

Radu took a step away from Alfred, cleverly tugging the cape from his fingers without bringing attention to the fact that Alfred had even grabbed it.

Suddenly vulnerable, Alfred shuffled his feet on the floor. He did his best to give the sweeping bow that Radu had taught him, as it indicated to nobles across the continent that his status was a Magician or a Magician’s apprentice.

“Your Majesty,” he said, straightening. He looked at the King’s blue eyes, trying to maintain eye contact for as long as he dared. Radu had told how important it was for him not to look scared in front of nobles. Something about power displays, but he hadn’t been paying too much attention to that lecture.

King Roderick stared at him for an uncomfortable minute before giving a slight nod.

Alfred hoped it meant he did the right thing.

“Duke, my brother, I have heard excellent progress regarding Arthur’s training. I know you plan to make him Knight-Captain of the Flamberge Royal Knights.” The King drummed his fingers on the arm of throne. “It won’t be easy, but I have a suggestion that will help to advance your goals.”

Duke Kirkland crossed his arms, his green eyes – duller in color than Arthur’s, Alfred noticed – darted towards Radu. “Does this have something to do with this Magician’s apprentice?”

“Indeed, it does brother,” the King said, crossing his legs. “We can cement Arthur’s position in the Knights by having a prestigious Magician swear themselves into his service.”

“True, but there are no respectable Magicians that would choose to serve a mere boy.”

Both Alfred and Arthur scowled.

Arthur was the best student in his group! Alfred wanted to yell. He was better than those older than him, too! He’d even bested a fully trained knight in a practice duel! Arthur wasn’t just a ‘boy’.

But he held his silence. Barely. This was the worst birthday ever.

“True,” the King continued. If he noticed the unhappy glares from the children, he ignored it. “However, we can have an apprentice pledge themselves to him. We can use it to elevate his status now, and when the apprentice is of age, they will follow Arthur to war.”

“You mean that one?” Duke Kirkland asked, rudely jabbing his thumb towards Alfred. “Isn’t he just a refugee the Magician picked up somewhere? We don’t even know what country that thing was born in.”

Alfred almost gave an angry shout of ‘ _what_!’ He was old enough to understand when people were insulting him – and so obviously, too! But Radu stepped up and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Being _my_ apprentice gives Alfred quite a bit of prestige,” Radu said smoothly, as if the Duke’s insult hadn’t affected him in the slightest. “He also has great magical potential – more than I’ve seen in my lifetime.” Radu smiled down at Alfred, squeezing his shoulder gently. “I believe with the right training he could become a Magician even more powerful than I.”

Now it was the Duke’s turn to scowl. “What’s to say he doesn’t live up to his potential? He’s not much to look at right now, if I’m being honest.”

“You doubt me?” Radu challenged.

The Duke opened his mouth to retort, but they were both silenced by a sharp clapping from King Roderick.

“That’s enough bickering, brother, Radu. I have already made my decision.” He stood, his furred cape scratching against the floor as he took a step forward. “Based on what Radu has told me about his charge, and what you have told me of your son, I know it is in our best interest to unite their standing.

“Apprentice Alfred Jones, you will pledge yourself to Arthur Kirkland. I’ll give you a few days to ready the spell, as I understand an oath requires some tutelage and practice.” The King looked to Alfred and Radu. “You may go and prepare yourselves.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Radu said with a small bow. He pressed a hand between Alfred’s shoulders, ushering him along.

Alfred took a quick glance over his shoulder, hoping to catch Arthur’s eye. What did he think about all of this? Was he happy that he’d be closer to his goal now?

Unfortunately, Alfred only saw the back of Arthur’s head. He tried not to feel disappointed. It was silly to expect that Arthur would be looking at him, too.

Three days later Alfred was sitting on his bed, trying to pull down the cuffs of his pajama pants, only to miserably notice that they were just too small. He had only received these pajamas for his birthday, too. Some of the tailoring maids could help him. Maybe he’d steal some sweet bread to barter with.

Radu was already lounging on his own bed on the other side of the room, a book with strange symbols printed on the cover in his hands.

Alfred threw himself into his bed, listening to the way the wood groaned in protest. If he broke this bed, would he get a new, bigger one? That would be nice.

“Hey Radu?” he asked, turning his head towards his mentor, his hands on his stomach. “Is it okay if I swear myself to Arthur?”

Radu glanced away from his book, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean if it’s ‘okay’?”

“Well, yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not actually a Magician yet, and we don’t know if I’ll ever be strong, either. So, what happens if I mess up and Arthur has to deal with having a sworn Magician who can’t help him?”

Radu sat up, setting his book aside as he thought how to answer. “There are a lot of unknowns,” he started carefully, “but there are a few things that we can guarantee. The first would be that you will never, ever be useless, Alfred. Even a Magician who cannot harness the elements, can still be a masterful healer. You will always have a place at a Knight’s side.”

Alfred frowned and pulled his pillow over his face. A _healer_ isn’t what the Duke and the King want for Arthur. He’d just be a burden. And it wasn’t as if he had much progress in his magical studies – it was all theories and book reading. Nothing practical – only the botched summoning attempts he made when Radu wasn’t around.

There was a creak from the other bed, the sound of surefooted steps leading up to his side, then Radu gently peeled the pillow from Alfred’s face.

“Do you not want to be sworn yet?” Radu asked him softly, his red eyes scanning Alfred’s face with concern. “I’m sorry. I made the assumption that you would not want to be sent into the service of the church.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Alfred said, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “And Arthur is nice, so I think it’ll be okay, even if he is older and bigger than me.”

Radu chuckled. “Well, you don’t have to worry now. Nothing will be expected of you until you turn eighteen. There’s plenty of time.”

Pacified, Alfred smiled meekly. Five years was like an eternity. “Okay.”

Then Radu ruffled his hair and told him to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be an important day.

A Magician’s oath was a private thing. No one would see the ceremony, but all Magicians are able to detect another’s fealty, so there could be no contesting it. Knowing that didn't make Alfred feel any less nervous, though.

Arthur and Alfred were escorted into the servant’s chapel – a small room off of the laundry facilities that held nothing more than two rows of pews and a religious tapestry. Colorful light filtered in through a circular stained window facing the east.

Radu was the last to leave them. He pat Alfred’s head and sent Arthur a kind smile before exiting, locking the door behind him.

“I – I’m sorry about this,” Alfred said, turning to Arthur. Oh no, his voice was trembling – so embarrassing. He cleared his throat. “Radu told me what to do.”

“Is it difficult?” Arthur asked, shifting uneasily on his feet. His green eyes wandered around the room, looking at everything but Alfred.

Alfred shook his head, but Arthur wasn’t looking, so he said, “Not really. Just . . . hold your hands out like this.”

Finally, Arthur turned to him to see that he should put his hands between them, palms up.

“Like this?”

“Yeah.” Alfred set his hands on top of Arthur’s, pretending he didn’t notice the older boy flinch a little at his touch.

He thought back to everything Radu and told him. It was supposed to be somewhat like making a wish to the fae, but something more powerful would be listening. It was kind of a scary thought.

“I am an unbreakable chain,” he chanted, repeating the incantation that Radu had taught him. “I bind myself to you, Arthur Kirkland. All that I am and all that I will be is yours; my knowledge, my power, and the spirits that surround me. Our separation can only be brought by death. And so it shall be.”

Now was the hard part.

He closed eyes, trying to focus inwards on the part of himself that harbored his magic – or so how he imagined it would be. As Radu instructed, he tried to imagine something shiny and tried to pick it up with his mind. He pretended he could see two hands reaching for the shiny coin of magic. When he saw the fingers brushed against it, the image disappeared in a flash of light.

There was a soft hum in the chapel.

Alfred’s eyes flew open in a panic as Arthur stared at him in awe. Their hands, palms touching, had begun to glow a soft gold color.

Just as quickly as it had started, the hum and the light faded away, leaving Alfred and Arthur to stare at one another; unsure.

“What was that?” Arthur asked, breaking the long silence.

“I . . . don’t know? The spell, I think. Maybe. Don't know what else it could be.”

They dropped their hands to their sides and scuffed their feet on the floor.

Arthur sat on one of the worn-down pews, grimacing when it groaned loudly under his weight. “So, what now?”

“Radu said we’re supposed to wait for him to come and get us,” Alfred explained. He was already walking the parameter of the room and stopped under the only window that wasn’t made of colored glass. It was small and rectangular, but Alfred decided it was large enough to suit his purposes.

He reached up; his fingertips unable to even graze the window’s ledge. “Hey Arthur, can you give me a boost?”

Arthur stared at him incredulously a moment before he realized Alfred was being serious. “Don’t we need to wait for your mentor? What are you doing?”

Alfred sighed, impatient. “Who knows when he’ll even be back? He told me it could take hours for me to figure it out, but there was the light and creepy sound, right? You saw it too, didn’t you?”

“Ah. Yes. I did see a faint glow about our hands.”

“Then it’s probably already done. Why stay here?” He vigorously waved Arthur over, grinning when the older boy finally stood with a moan. “Just help me get up to the window, I’ll help you out, too!”

Arthur positioned himself into an awkward squat, knitting his fingers into a makeshift stair. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Alfred stepped into Arthur’s waiting hands. He swayed slightly and clung at the wall, waiting for Arthur to ground himself, before he leaned up to peer through the window.

It was a simple hook lock window, so he nimbly popped the latch and pushed the window open. With a grunt, he pulled himself halfway through the window, ignoring the way the heavy pane pressed against his back. It took some maneuvering, but he was able to turn himself around, his stomach on the window ledge and his head back inside the chapel; feet dangling over a decorative bush.

“Grab my hands,” he said, reaching down to Arthur with a huff. “I’ll pull you up!”

Obediently Arthur raised his hands to Alfred’s, although the look on his face clearly showed that he had no idea how, exactly, Alfred was going to pull him up with his skinny arms.

Grasping Arthur’s wrists as tightly as he could, he began to shimmy out of the window, letting his body weight slowly pull Arthur up until the older boy could easily grab the ledge and pull himself up the rest of the way.

“Freedom!” Alfred squealed as he dropped down into the bushes, happily tumbling his way out of them.

Arthur landed much more gracefully, stepping out of the bush while brushing a few stray leaves from his tunic. “I’ll have to admit that I’m impressed your plan worked,” he said, his smile crooked as he looked over at Alfred. “What shall we do next?”

“Let’s go to the orchard! I heard chef is planning to make peach cobbler for dessert tonight, so now’s our chance to snag some peaches before they’re all picked!”

Alfred ran off, laughing, Arthur close on his heels.

An hour later Radu found them in the center of the peach orchard, their faces and fingers sticky with juice. He had simply laughed at them, then congratulated Alfred with a pat on his shoulder before he left them to their own devices for the day.

Alfred wished that every day could be just as perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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